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pointless
dave malloy
pointless.

hmph.

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28 October 2004

nothing is right these last few days. this is because of a low pressure system, which we have been sailing through for over a week now, almost constantly....a new bermuda to canada itenerary involves a lot more seadays than usual, and each day at sea has been worse than the last, the ship under constant attacks by 20 foot waves that spray the top decks relentlessly. sleep is impossible because the entire world is moving under you, which is not too bad, indeed has in the past been praised bei mir for its rocking lulling rockabye rock, but now in violent sporadic bursts there are bombings...a boomingcrash followed by ten seconds of back and forth aftershocking, so traumatic that the whack of wave wall sends cackling ghost images of sinking directly into my head, THWACK!! and the room itself creaking protest songs all night. drawers are left on the ground and oh my god it never stops. no one is happy, as the stumble about the mess tired and cranky and unstable, coffee spilling and christ when will it end looks of disbelief on all the young international faces. a short storm is fun...a week of this is madness inviting.

further frustrations abound in this wartorn enviornment...worst for me is sporadic computer functioning due to wild weather, and on top of this yahoo mails 48 hours+ of outtacommission...whether this is a yahoo thing or some strange low pressure bug that has infested the three working computers on the ship, i cannot say. (positively aching to send certain someones certain someloves, rest assured. also in need of timely email from me is my sister, who celebrates her birthday today, so let it be said here at least love and 35 kisses and soon to see and thank you for all.) but playing too is wildly stressful, as we are rocked nearly out of our chairs as the ship shakes and moans during a nightmare version of delilah, the stage filled with schizoid light rays and smoke machine excess as scotsman jack walker falls to the groud and i pound out fm9 triplets which the earth moving underneath conspires into gm9s against my will. i held the knife in my hand and she cried no more. last nights lunar eclipse glimpsed under black sheet of clouds, and when she did emerge the shaking boat frame caused the moon to appear to be hanging from a rubber band, bouncing playful throgh the sky. gorgeous. and shake shake whack again.

spent part of our last night in bermuda riding a shoppng cart through the abandoned streets of 5am hamilton. that was not right either, but at least that disreality had the wind in my hair in a continual flow, not these jerks and starts. how i long for a smooth ripple of time to pet my back, low to high all night long.

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